From the World's Center
by theyleaveshadows
Summary: There is a society linked by the North Pole that works to supervise the events of the world, controlled by heads who separate their powers into the sprites and spirits that work under them. There are six wings, and one of them has not been used in a very, very long time. (AU, no pairings)


A slight hum echoed quietly through the empty halls of Nicholas (or North) Barker's wing of the building, The very heavy yet agile mage practically skated down the hallway over the wood flooring, a glide and jump for every other step. His iced over beard stayed in one place as the rest of his body swayed with every movement. He didn't mind the cold as many of the other heads did. It didn't bother him, and it seemed like his sprites and spirits both agreed.

_"Must be because of what ice and snow provide!"_ mused North when he noticed his wing's notable affection for it some four years in the past, _"No other temperature allows such creativity!"_ He concluded, and then proceeded to never think about it again. Elated was one way to describe him as his humming became sing-song orders as he gave his sprites breaks and others tasks to complete. He was organized, yet messy. He was strict, and yet as jolly as can be. Of course, he was like that every single day. This part of the job in particular was practically play for him, and only became difficult when faced with other spirits. At that point, it was like a serious drinking game. Usually, it ended that way literally. Under normal circumstances, that is. He pulled his form ahead, dragging his red robe and lifting along with it the golden colored laces adorning the edges. Mystic and wonderful is how many would call it, and many said it gave off the look of a sage. North raised a hand and snapped his fingers twice in quick succession, and without hesitation, a carefully designed board appeared in his hand, gaining a slight hitch of breath in the man, if only for a millisecond. Handling it carefully, he gave it to the sprite who struggled to keep up on his left side. The white-clad beast gave a slight bow of gratitude as well as an apology while he slowed his speed.

"Not problem Phyl, made by Dryad." North gave an 'ok' sign as well as a curt, joyful nod as the sprite, named "Phyl' by the man himself, disappeared from sight in the hallway among the other creatures. The hall completely disappeared as the floor dipped down into what was named the 'Rat Hole' by many, but Ana found that fairly offensive. She and North himself liked to call it the 'World's Center' because it was the literal center of the N.O.M.S, connecting to all six wings, as well as various portals provided by Tsar Lunar. He noted he liked it better than the (fairly) Poisonous Heathole known as the Warren. His Workshop, as he self-named his own wing, was clearly more important anyway.

"Crikey, it's cold enough to kill Summer in here. Great as always, North." A strongly Australian accented voice came from the heated tunnel, the voice taking form in a not-human. The not-human was shivering half-jokingly. In appearance, he was distinctly human but with patterns and slight fur along his entire body upon closer inspection. His ears were outstretched, curving, long, and attentive. A head who was born a spirit, unlike the mage in front of him. Not just his powers, but his look gave the idea of someone not human. A long green and white piece of clothing, crafted by delicate yet sturdy foliage covered him from the waist down. It made a shaky sound like breath was woven into it, and every step he took was a new release or capture of air to the alive, yet dead clothing.

"Bunny! Good! Glad you like!" He exclaimed, patting the not-human on his back firmly, letting out a laugh.

"_Don't call me Bunny, mate._ My name's Aster. " Aster rolled his shoulders and eyes, and then took a seat upon the railing in the middle of the room, "Why'd you call me here?"

"Not only you, Bunny, all heads!" North threw his hands up into the air for effect, as though music would start any second. Aster's ears were quickly blocked by thick leaves instinctively, and said leaves withered away in mere seconds. Aster spoke up again,

"First, don't you dare summon ANY instruments, and secondly, I'm fairly surprised there's actually something important happening. It's shocking."

North nodded at both happily, oblivious to the obvious dry humor left in Aster's voice. He looked up at the globe, spinning, and occupying the center as an almost hologram. You could not touch it, but it was there as a solid. Blue sparks sounded quietly from the area around it. Lunar magic. It was protected by Tsar Lunar's magic. It was one of very few things directly influenced by that sort of power. There was no explanation. North always looked at it with wonder, at how not even he could penetrate the barrier, and how beautiful it was. The globe was one of the only colors other than the magic that lit the room. Most of the room was mechanical looking, but not mechanical whatsoever. It was fairly ironic, and Tsar had set it up that way as what was probably a joke. The tiles below their feet were dry, in both dampness and color. They were reminiscent of a street from the middle ages. For the probably fiftieth time, North noticed all of this.

"Ah, yes, North, I feel as though you were calling me." A dark figure like shadows lurked in the corner of a wing entrance, skin ashen like the shadows he was enveloped in. A robe of a darker shade covered his entire body, twisting into the black below. He was behind a small man covered in golden robes that seemed to cover his entire body, including almost his face. The small, almost glowing man gave a sigh and waved off the man dismissively,

_'He wanted to follow me."_ The thought echoed in the heads of the people around the room. The shadow man snorted, and North gave another of his signature laughs.

"Welcome! Sandy, Pitch, glad you could come!" He tried to throw his arm around both. Sandare, or 'Sandy' by everyone except Pitch, accepted the touch. Pitch, however, avoided with a grimace and a snarky grin,

"Shadows aren't meant to be touched, fool." He snapped jokingly, making his way to the dark recesses as far away from the globe as possible. The two who had entered were both heads of the two closely related wings. Basically, the jobs were one in the same, and even the wings intertwined halfway through their areas. Not that either liked it at all, however.

Pitch applied a mock surprise to his tone, "I would think everyone would have something better to do! It seems you took time off from your oh-so-busy schedules for this meeting. I can respect that," He pointed towards North first, "Head of the Invention Division." He put air quotes over the words, pointing at North in the middle of the room, adding "Although it's practically the Earth division." under his breath. North nodded at the title, something he did quite a lot. Pitch turned his head and pointed at Aster,

"Head of the Plantae Division." He let out an exasperated sigh at the nam, and Aster just returned it with yet another eye roll.

"I know, wildlife and life in general is clearly not your forte, ya ratbag." Aster murmured.

Pitch gave a slight raise of his lips, and put out his hand as if to say 'obviously', and motioned to Sandy,

"Head of the Sugarcoating Division."

Sandy rose an eyebrow and retorted, making sure his words was heard in the mind of everyone present.

_"Head of the Optimalism Division to you, would you call that sugarcoating, Mr. Manipulative Division head?"_

Pitch gave a creepy, toothy grin, holding a finger to his head, "Head of the Neuroticism Division, thank you Sandare. I assure you we are both skilled at bending the human mind. In fact, everyone in here is the same. We don't manipulate, _we convince_. It's up to them. I'm sure you're well aware. Of course you are, with your _suffocating_ optimism. "

_"Optimalism."_

The other two of the four occupant's looked on at the same argument that happened well over every time they came to the World's Center. A stumble was heard from the right, and both of them found themselves looking towards the sound. A half-hovering human hybrid stood at the entrance of the second wing. Lining her arms, face, and legs were scales that blended and waved like feathers. They took on bright colors of purple, yellow, green, and mixed in with various others. A few small, fairy-like sprites zipped around her, with many of the same colors. It was a stark contrast to the dreary and dark pathways in the room. A fur dress (she claimed it was from long before she became a head; no way would she dare to strip the coat of an animal, no way. Nobody asked about it in the first place, but she liked to make her position known) covered her figure lightly, aligned with a symmetrical blending of black and white.

"S-Sorry everyone, the pixies made a mess with some human affairs! I couldn't just leave them like that! Oh, how many times do I have to tell those little trouble makers? Matchmaking is exclusive to Cu- D-Did I interrupt something?"

"Welcome, Ana! We are happy you could have made it! No problem! Pitch? Sandy?" The two stopped their arguing and focused their sight on Ana Insolar, who was still catching her breath. She looked slightly flustered at the sudden attention and put her hand on the back of her head, and with a nervous smile, nodded slightly and looked back up to North.

Regaining himself from the argument Pitch cleared his throat, and went back to his words before. He pointed at Ana with a hint of completion in his voice ever so slightly.

"...and lastly, Head of the Animalia Division. Now, since we are all here, well not everyone," He hinted towards the deserted wing entrance, "There's som-"

North cut him off and started anew,

"Now that we are all here, heads of the Natural Occurrence Monitoring Society, we will talk."

"I never did like that name." Pitch interrupted yet again, "It makes us sounds like all our jobs are as useless as yours."

North, for the umpteenth time, gave a laugh straight from his belly,

"Good one, Pitch!' His laughter died down and his eyes became lowered slightly, " Today we have important matter to discuss. About past "

Ana and Aster scrunched their eyebrows in confusion, Sandy showed no reaction, and Pitch looked on knowingly. North spoke up again, locking his eyes with each of them,

"Jack Frost has regained his powers."

The echo of two gasps, both almost inaudible, was followed with the sound of silence from and a dark chuckle.

* * *

AN: Oh, yeah, this may be a thing. Maybe not, I'm not sure. It sounded fun to write. And you know what's hard to write? Accents. Australian accents will be the death of me. Said accent probably sucks at the moment. Anyway, on that note, a Dryad is a oak tree nymph from Greek mythology. OCs are technically present, but only mentioned and talked to seldom like Cupid from above, and the pixies. There will probably be no other book characters due to not having read them. Italics is either a stress on words or thoughts, which is why Sandy's dialogue is like that.


End file.
